


A Hero's Return

by Cerdic519



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baseball, Happy Ending, M/M, News Media, Past Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-25 23:55:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak's life has been a mess. Ten years ago, he was in love with the stunningly handsome Dean Winchester, only for the latter to out him at the school prom, claiming Castiel had made a pass at him. The boy was only dissuaded from taking his own life that night by Dean's brother Sam, who tracked him down and talked him out of it. Castiel left Lawrence and made a successful career for himself with the Marines, only to be forced out when his superior officer found out about a homosexual affair, and arranged for his lover Balthazar to die in an ambush. Castiel eventually found justice thanks to the efforts of his brother Gabriel and his hometown of Lawrence, and returns to the town because Sam is now ill. Bad timing, because someone else is coming back to Lawrence that same day.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hero's Return

Wednesday had been one of Sam Winchester’s worse days. The illness that had lain him low for the past few weeks seemed to be getting worse, the store had messed up his online grocery order, and Dean had called to say he was visiting tomorrow. He was trying to make some dinner when his boyfriend burst into his apartment, apparently on another of his sugar-induced highs.   
Sam smiled. It was either that or strangle Gabriel.  
“Sammikins!”  
Gabriel bounced up to and kissed him sloppily, then grabbed the remote from the side, and began randomly jabbing at buttons until he found the right one. He dragged Sam over to the couch, and grinned.  
“Gabriel, I’m not really in the mood…”  
“Guess whose interview is on national TV?” he beamed. “Little Castiel’s!”  
Sam gaped, and turned his attention back to the screen, where the newscaster was sitting in front of a picture of a very well-known ex-marine. In fact, probably the most famous (or infamous) ex-marine in America.  
“… the disgraceful case of Castiel Novak, forced out of the United States Marine Corps after striking a superior officer. Only the efforts of his brother, film producer Gabriel Novak (of course Sam's boyfriend had to stand up and bow to an imaginary audience at this point), and his legal team brought the shocking truth to light, namely that the officer he struck, Colonel Zachariah Adler, had deliberately engineered an order that sent Lieutenant Novak’s boyfriend, Balthazar West, to his death in Afghanistan. That, plus a prolonged campaign by Lieutenant Novak’s home town of Lawrence, Kansas, forced the USMC into an unprecedented early appeal hearing, at which every one of the men under Lieutenant Novak testified on his behalf, their testimonies having somehow been ruled inadmissible in the earlier hearing. He was acquitted in minutes, and has perhaps understandably decided not to return to the service.”  
The camera panned back to reveal Castiel sitting in the opposite chair, and Sam tried not to wince. With the ex-marine’s appeal and his own illness, he hadn’t been able to see him in the weeks since the initial hearing, and the man looked tired and much older than his twenty-eight years. But then he smiled that tiny Cas-smile, barely a twitch but with his eyes crinkling at the edges, and Sam suddenly felt so much better.  
“You strike me as a private person, Mr. Novak”, the interviewer said. “I’m surprised you agreed to go on national television?”  
“I had a very personal reason”, Castiel said, looking straight at the interviewer, who visibly wilted under the stare. Sam smiled. He knew that look of old.  
“Prepared to share it with us?”  
“As I’m sure you know, the damages I was awarded at the final hearing were split between the town of Lawrence, who did so much to force the corps’ hand, and three military charities who help soldiers post-combat. But there is someone else who needed my support, and though you are quite correct in that I do not like putting myself in the public eye, I owe him a lot. That is why I am here today, and will be visiting Lawrence tomorrow to start doing interviews with all the local media there.”  
“And who is the hero’s hero, then?”  
“His name is Sam.”  
Fortunately Gabriel managed to stop Sam falling off the couch, and had the presence of mind to freeze the interview immediately afterwards.  
“What did he say?” Sam gasped, as Gabriel unfroze the TV.  
“There was a time in my life when I felt very low, lower even than when I was thrown out of the Marines”, Castiel said calmly. “Someone I thought I could trust broke my heart. I wanted to end it all there and then, but Sam followed me, found me, and spent the whole night talking me round. He has written me every week since that time, never missing a single one. Now he is ill, and although I am sure my brother would fund his treatment if I asked, I want to do this myself.” He suddenly turned and stared straight at the camera, and Sam almost backed away at the intensity of that look. “He’s moved back to Lawrence now, and I hope to see him tomorrow. Sam, you have been my true friend through everything, and I thank you.”  
Gabriel froze the TV again, and Sam realized the loud noise was his own heart thumping at way beyond its normal rate. He tried to get it to return to normal, and had almost calmed down when a terrible thought struck him.  
“Oh my God!” he shouted. “Dean’s coming tomorrow as well!”  
“They’ll probably miss each other”, Gabriel suggested hopefully.  
Of course they wouldn’t. Sam was never that lucky.

The Kansas City Royals' star pitcher was only coming back to Lawrence to sort out the sale of his parents’ old house. He hadn’t been back for ten years, ever since…. No, he wanted to put that memory behind him. It was ten years, after all.   
He parked the Impala in front of the old place early on Thursday morning, and was relieved to see the flap down on the secure locker, which meant the groceries he had ordered would be inside. He took his own bags into the house first, then came back and collected the grocery basket, carrying it into the kitchen. He put everything away first, then noticed the local newspaper at the bottom. Folded over, he could only read the headline ‘Local Hero Returning Home.’ Since he was about the only famous person Lawrence had ever produced in recent times, he unfolded it, wondering why his coming back was front page news.   
Then he froze. Cas was on the front cover. His Cas, in a military uniform. He was the 'Local Hero'.  
Dean suddenly felt sick. He wished he had ordered some alcohol with the groceries, but he'd forsworn the drink after a bad training incident led to his club forcing him to test regularly, to make sure he stayed off the bottle. Then he reached the final paragraph, which left him reeling.  
‘But it seems even heroes need their own heroes, and former Lieutenant Novak’s comes in the form of another local man, who talked him out of taking his own life ten years ago, and who has been one of the few constants in his life apart from his brother Gabriel. Mr. Novak has declared his intention of visiting that man and trying to repay just a fraction of the kindness given so freely over the years. Lawrence should be rightly proud that it has a second hero, and his name is Sam.’  
Dean was stunned. Cas had attempted suicide after Dean had exposed him that fateful prom night, ten years ago. And his own brother, Sam, had undone Dean’s actions, and been Cas’ friend ever since.   
He needed to find Sam.

Sam had assumed that Castiel would visit him Thursday evening, after he had done his first set of interviews. So he was somewhat surprised when he answered the door in his dressing-gown shortly after eight a.m. to find Gabriel and Castiel outside. Though not as surprised when the normally shy Castiel elbowed his brother aside and embraced Sam fiercely.   
“Oof!”  
“Thank you so much, Sam”, the man almost sobbed. “Just…. thank you!”  
“What for?”  
Castiel finally let him go, and the two went over to the couch, followed by Gabriel.  
“For everything”, the ex-marine said, tears still visible in his eyes. “You have no idea what it’s like out there, Sam. Those letters of yours, they were about the only thing keeping me sane at times. And even during the case, when I thought I was going to lose everything, you stayed with me. You saved my life so many times. And now, perhaps, I can finally pay back just a little of what I owe you.”  
Sam was about to ask more when there was a knock at the door. Gabriel leapt across and opened it, admitting a youngish man with a virulently ginger mullet hairdo.   
“This is Doctor Ashley St. Leger, who’s come over from the Belle Vue Memorial in Kansas City. He wants you to go and spend a month at his hospital, and he’s sure he can sort you out.”  
“Cas, I can't....”  
“Sam. Please!”   
Sam thought wryly of something Dean had once said, that Cas had learnt the ‘wounded puppy dog look’ from the younger Winchester. He was now turning it on his former mentor to full effect.  
“We are one of the best institutions in the world for mystery conditions such as yours”, Doctor St. Leger put in. “You will be in good hands, Mr. Winchester. And the hospital canteen serves a mean salad royale!”  
Sam grinned. Gabriel had obviously put him up to that.  
“Cas, you owe me nothing”, he said, gently taking the ex-marine by the hands. “And after what my brother did to you, even if I wrote you every day for the rest of our lives, I’d still be in debt to you. But it means a lot to me that you've come back. Yes, I'll go.”  
Castiel hugged him again.  
“Thank you!” he whispered. “Thank you so much!”

Dean glared when he saw the gold Mustang parked outside Sam’s apartment. That meant Gabriel was visiting. Sam’s run-down old Jeep was also there, plus a few other cars. He considered pulling away, but at that moment Gabriel came out, along with a ginger-haired guy he’d never seen before. The two got into Gabriel’s car and drove off. Dean waited a minute, then pulled in and parked.  
Sam’s apartment was on the third floor, and since his recent illness left him sometimes feeling too weak to get up, he’d agreed to give Dean a key for when he visited. So Dean barrelled straight into the apartment after only a quick knock.  
“Saw your boyfriend leaving”, he observed, as he walked down the short hallway into the main room. “What did he…?”  
He stopped dead. Sam was sitting on the couch, and opposite him was… Cas! Ten years older, and looking much more, but definitely Cas.  
“You!” Dean gasped.  
Castiel stood up, and Dean knew at once things had changed. The old Cas wouldn't have looked Dean in the eye. This one gazed straight at him, his ice-blue eyes cold and hostile. Where once there had been love, there was now only hatred. Utter, unremitting hatred.  
“I shall leave you with your brother, Sam”, he said stiffly. “The two of you have much to talk about, I am busy with interviews for the next few days, but I could come and see you tomorrow evening about eight, if that is acceptable?”  
“That would be great, Cas” Sam smiled.  
Castiel smiled back at him, then walked stiffly past Dean without saying anything. The door shut quietly behind him, and he was gone.  
“So you kept in touch, then?” Dean said. “Why didn't you tell me?”  
“He asked me not to”, said Sam, easing himself into a lying position on the couch. “I said I'd prefer not to keep it from you, but after what you did, I had to respect his wishes.”  
“You had a crush on him!”  
“I still have.”  
“What?”  
“Don't be over-dramatic, Dean”, Sam said patiently. “Cas has known for a long time how I feel about him. We've both long known there could never be anything between us. Besides, ever since losing Jess, it's Gabe I've been seeing more of.”  
“How did that happen?” Dean asked suspiciously. “That little weasel....”  
“Do not speak of my boyfriend like that!”  
Dean shut up. Even when ill, Sam could be a scary bastard when roused.  
“Castiel was serving his first stint abroad when Jess died in that fire”, Sam explained. “I wrote him about it, and he messaged Gabe. He was filming in some eastern European country or other, but he dropped everything and flew to Cali to help me get through it. I made a pass at him, and he put me off, telling me to take a while and then ask again.” He looked hard at his elder brother, and added meaningfully, “it's called consideration for others.”  
Dean winced.  
“Has Cas said anything about me?” he asked.  
“Why would he? It's been ten years since you outed him at the prom. I hardly think it's a memory he'd want to relive.”  
“I was eighteen years old!”  
“Going on nine”, Sam muttered.  
Dean turned away.   
“Who was the redhead with Gabriel?” he asked eventually.  
“A doctor Cas found for me. He thinks he can cure me, but I've got to spend a month at his hospital. In Kansas City.”  
“Wish you'd have asked me first”, Dean grumbled. “I'm short right now, what with the new house and all.”  
Sam snapped.  
“Why do you think Cas is doing all these interviews all of a sudden?” he demanded. “You know how much he's always hated publicity. The money he's being paid will fund my treatment. He's putting himself through media hell, just so some idiot who writes him the odd letter can have a chance!”  
“Sammy!”  
“Just go, Dean. I'm tired, and I really don't want to talk about this any more. Please.”  
Dean turned on his heel and left the apartment.

He was about to get into the Impala when he caught sight of a familiar figure in the coffee-shop across the road. Damn him, ten years on and he still had that bloody trench-coat! Without thinking, Dean crossed the road and strode into the shop, not stopping until he was standing at Castiel's table.  
The ex-marine was sat there, apparently not even noticing him. His attention was focussed instead on his open wallet, and Dean could make out a black-and-white picture of two men standing arm-in-arm before the man looked up, saw him, and snapped the wallet shut. Those blue eyes were ice-cold again.  
“What do you want, Dean?”  
“To talk. It's been ten years, Cas...”  
“Don't call me that! I am Cas to my friends, and you are not one of those!”  
“I was once.”  
“The imperfect tense is quite accurate. Was.”  
“Can we at least talk? Sam, for one thing.”  
“Sam is a grown man, capable of making his own decisions. I owe him my life. I shall be seeing a lot of him in the next few days, to help sort things out. When I see him tomorrow, I shall arrange a schedule, so you and I can avoid each other in future.” He stood up, ramrod-straight as ever. “Goodbye, Dean. I do not wish to see you again.”  
He left, his trench-coat billowing out behind him. Dean sank down onto the chair, exhausted. He didn't know how, but he had to make Cas forgive him.  
It didn't even cross his mind as to why this was important.

Dean's chance came sooner than he expected. He'd promised Ellen at the Roadhouse that he'd do an interview with KANU, where her daughter Jo wanted to become a presenter. Ellen had helped raise him and Sam after their father died, so he knew he owed her.   
Dean he had to be at the station at a set time in the morning, which given his haphazard approach to punctuality meant he charged into station reception with just five minutes to go, nearly knocking over a man having a quiet phone conversation by the desk. This day couldn’t surely get any worse.  
Then the man turned round. It was Castiel.  
Scratch the idea that things couldn’t get worse.  
The ex-marine looked understandably annoyed.  
“I was going to say I was glad to bump into you, but as usual you seem to have taken things literally”, he observed sharply.  
“Eh?” Dean was puzzled.  
“My last interview for today has been rescheduled for tomorrow, so I’m seeing Sam at six-thirty tonight, not eight. I shall be leaving before nine. Just to let you know.”  
His tone was one of complete disinterest. Dean felt stung.  
“Thank you for your consideration”, he snapped.  
“Doctor St. Leger will want Sam to start his treatment by the end of the week”, Castiel said. “I shall ask him to make sure he leaves a copy of the schedule for you, and that you have free admission at the hospital. Good day, Dean.”  
He left, his coat again swirling behind him like a pair of wings. Dean had once likened him to an angel partly because of that, but mostly because of those impossibly blue eyes. The boy had once idolized him. The man now hated him.  
What made it worse was that Dean knew he had every right so to do.

He arrived home later that day still feeling bad, and was still taking his coat off when someone knocked the door behind him. Grumbling he opened it to find a sassy-looking redhead staring at him.  
“Dean Winchester?” she said inquiringly.  
The thought quickly crossed his mind that this was exactly the sort of girl he would go for. Just as quickly followed by the thought that he felt absolutely no interest in her at all. He filed both thoughts away for further perusal.  
“Yes?” he said politely.  
“Charlie Bradbury. Cas’ friend. He said you needed Skype setting up on your computer.”  
“What?”  
“Your brother going into hospital? Cas said you were, and I quote, ‘technologically incontinent’. Skype means you can talk to him….”  
“I know what Skype is!” he snapped.  
“Bet you can’t get it to work!” she snapped back, grinning.  
He glared at her. The prospect of keeping in touch with Sam was good, but Dean felt annoyed that Castiel was interfering in his life, even if  he supposed it was for Sam’s benefit as much as his. He stood back and bowed his visitor in.  
“Thanks”, she smiled. “Coffee, milk, no sugar, and at least three biscuits, not the plain ones. Or I might accidentally inform the authorities about your porn websites!”  
Dean groaned. 

“Sammikins!”  
Sam groaned, but smiled. His boyfriend was making his standard restrained entrance, i.e. six balloons in assorted colourful animal shapes, several bags of sherbet lemons (Sam’s favourites), a heart-shaped box of Ferrero Rocher (Gabriel's favourites), and a bag of books Sam had asked him to bring in. He tied the balloons to the bedpost, then hugged the taller man hard for several moments before drawing back. Sam was surprised to see a tear in the honey-coloured eyes.  
“Pleased to see me?” he grinned.  
“Not just that! Sam, you’re cured!”  
“Eh?”  
“The medicos have found what was making you ill. You’ll never guess!”  
He looked far too pleased at this. Sam swatted at him.  
“Out with it!”  
“Deano!”  
“Eh?”  
Gabriel unwrapped Sam a sherbet lemon, then sat down next to the bed.  
“Remember when your place had that rat infestation a few months ago?”  
“Mmm”, said Sam, sucking his lemon.  
“And Deano paid a professional crew to clean your room from top to bottom?”  
“Yeah. Get on with it.”  
“Patience, Samsquatch! Well, turns out you’re allergic to one of the chemicals they used. The medicos told me the name, but I lost interest about the fifteenth syllable or something. And you did only feel ill after that, remember. It was the brother, with the poison, in your own pad!”  
“Thank you, Jessica Fletcher!”  
Gabriel pulled him into a hug.  
“I’m so glad it wasn’t anything more serious”, he whispered.  
Sam looked hard at him, and understood. Gabriel had faced the real prospect of losing him, and it had cracked right through his normal confident self. He could tell his boyfriend was uncomfortable with this – in that aspect, if that alone, he reminded him of Dean and his ‘no chick-flick moments’ rule – so he changed the subject.  
“Cas says he’s coming down tomorrow”, he said. “I’m surprised he has the time.”  
“The stations wanted to interview him Sunday, but he said no”, Gabriel said. “He hates the cameras, but it’s all for a good cause.”  
“I’m making him suffer.”  
Gabriel slapped his hand lightly.  
“Ouch!”  
“Cas wants this. I know you don’t see it that way, but you saved his life back in high school. If it hadn’t been for you, there’d be no Cas. Simples!”  
“Have you told him the good news?”  
“Texted him whilst I was waiting for the medicos to finish up with you. He’s in interviews all today, so I doubt I’ll hear back for a while. Now, do you want Doctor Gabriel to proscribe his own special medication to make you better?”  
“Gabe! This place has security cameras!”  
“Then let’s give them a show!”

“I'm so glad they found what's wrong.”  
San was wondering if he was the only one with an allergy round here. Castiel was tearing up just like his boyfriend.  
“Dean will be in later. He hasn't texted me back about how it was his men who put in the stuff that made me sick. I am so going to rib him over that!”  
“Your brother seems highly successful”, Castiel observed dryly. “Indeed, until recently I suppose he was Lawrence’s favourite son.”  
“Yes. Rather ironic that you took that away from him.”  
The small Cas-smile was there again.   
“After he took so much away from me.”  
“Cas?”  
“Yes, Sam?”  
“Can I ask you a personal question?”  
“Of course.”  
“Do you still have feelings for my brother?”  
Castiel blushed.  
“I’m sorry”, Sam said hastily. “I shouldn’t have asked….”  
“No. You have every right to know”. Cas sighed, then gently touched one of Sam’s long bangs. “I always knew I fell in love with the wrong Winchester. I really wish I could have loved you, Sam, not him. But he broke me. Just to score a few extra bonus points with those jocks he was always hanging out with. If it hadn’t been for you….”  
“I’m sorry, Cas. You deserve better.”  
The ex-marine smiled a watery smile.  
“I have you as a friend. That means so much to me. Please, don’t tell Dean….”  
“I would never!”  
Castiel hugged him.  
“Thank you, Sam.”

Dean watched the TV anxiously. Castiel was visiting Sam in hospital this morning, and this was one of the interviews he had recorded yesterday.  
It was not going well. The interviewer, a blonde bimbo whose IQ was probably a fraction of her bust size, seemed determined to find out exactly what had happened at that fateful prom ten years ago. Dean was actually surprised that someone hadn’t come forward with their version of events, but apparently this presenter thought it easier to try to get the information out of Castiel.  
Dean could have told her that was the ultimate in lost causes. When it came to clamming up emotionally, Castiel was one of the few people who could outdo Dean. He parried the woman’s questions with dexterity, and Dean could see her getting more and more frustrated as the interview went on, until with her last question she suddenly got something approaching an answer.  
“Was this over someone you loved?”  
“Yes. I loved him. But that wasn’t enough for him. He rejected me. I spent five years of my life building up a fantasy, and he destroyed it in a few seconds. To hate and love someone at the same time is a terrible thing, Candice. I pray it may never happen to your good self.”  
Five years! That was right back when Castiel had transferred into the school at thirteen! And Dean hadn’t even noticed him until a few months before the prom.   
He felt ashamed.   
   
He was due to see Sam that afternoon, but had to first swing by his brother’s apartment to pick up an extra book he’d forgotten to ask Gabriel to bring with the others. He was crossing the car park when he happened to glance up, and saw a familiar trench-coat in the café opposite. Without stopping to think, he marched straight in and stood across from Castiel at his table.  
The ex-marine looked annoyed.  
“What do you want, Dean?” he said patiently.   
Dean countered with a question of his own.  
“Why are you here? There’s nothing around here for you?”  
“I’ve been cleaning Sam’s apartment.”  
“What?”  
Castiel gave him one of his ‘you’re embarrassing me, please go forth and multiply’ looks.   
“Cleaning. I promised Sam I would. Besides, I find it restful.” A calculated pause, then he added bitterly, “you might remember that.”  
Dean blushed, and sat down at the table. Castiel still looked annoyed, but at least he wasn’t leaving. Yet.  
“You forget a lot over ten years”, he mumbled.  
“I do not forget anything, Dean.”  
Something in Dean snapped. He leant forward angrily.  
“What do you want, from me, Cas? An apology? A public proclamation begging your forgiveness? Tell me, and I’ll do it!”  
Castiel leant forward too, and their faces were just inches apart.   
“Ten years, Dean. For you, ten of the best years of your life. Success, glamour, money – you’ve had it all. I had ten years of misery, suffering and heartbreak, and if it hadn’t been for your brother, I wouldn’t even be here. There is nothing you could ever say or do that would put things right between us, so don’t even think to ask. It’s over.”  
He stood up and left quickly. Dean stared after him, his heart sinking.

A few days later, Dean met Jo at the station.  
“I still can’t believe you’re actually going to do this”, she said.  
It struck Dean that, for the first time he could remember, she was actually looking at him with admiration.   
“I am.”  
“You’re risking a hell of a lot, for what? You don’t think he’ll actually forgive you, after all these years?”  
“No, he won’t. But I spoke to him the other day, and he was right. I’ve been living a lie these past ten years, and it’s time I came clean.”  
“Amazing! Make-up is through the cream door. You’re on in about an hour; I’ll call you with a reminder shortly before, okay?”  
“Thanks, Jo.”  
She waited for him to go through the door, then hurried outside and whipped out her phone.  
“Mum! You won’t believe what’s about to happen!”

“Bobby, I’m telling you, he’s going to confess everything. On live TV.”  
“The idjit! I suppose all this because of that damned angel boy!”  
“They’re in love, Bobby. Love makes people do strange things.”  
“Yeah? Well, this is five miles beyond strange even for him, Ellen!”

“He’s going to do what?”  
Castiel looked across at him in surprise. Sam blushed, and turned to speak into his phone..  
“That idjit brother of yours is going to be on live TV in... fifteen minutes’ time, confessing everything. It’ll be the end of him!”  
“Or the beginning.”  
“You’re making about as much sense as him! Is angel boy in the car with you?”  
“Yes, we’re only ten minutes from home.”  
“Then get him in there and make sure he watches!”  
“Fine.” Sam closed the phone, and exhaled.  
“Bobby”, he said. “Wanted to make sure we were home okay. I'm looking forward to being home, Cas. And I really need the bathroom.”

They pulled into the car park with three minutes before the start of the interview, and Sam had to writhe in impatience as the elevator ground painfully slowly up to his floor. He made it into the apartment with seconds to spare, jabbed the TV onto the right channel, then hurried to the bathroom, hoping fervently that Castiel didn’t try to change the channel. To his relief he heard the man go into the kitchen to make drinks. Waiting a few moments, Sam came out and flopped heavily onto the chair. Fortunately Castiel knew his way round the kitchen, so he was back fairly quickly.  
“Coffee for the now ex-patient, tea for….Dean!”  
Sam quietly slid the volume back up.  
“….good of you to come in, Dean. One of Lawrence’s two returning heroes.”  
“Thanks, Bob. It’s Castiel I came on to talk about.”  
In the room, Sam watched as Castiel’s face went deathly white.  
“I knew Cas from high school. Candice asked him the other day who the guy was who broke his heart. The dick who stood up in front of the school prom and outed him to the whole school. The man who ruined his life, and nearly drove him to suicide. That man was me, Bob. And if I could trade everything I've had since to go back in time and undo that wrong, I would do it like a shot.”  
Castiel uttered a small cry.  
“I only really noticed him for a few months before the prom. It made me feel kind of big; hey I was Dean Winchester, so cool he could attract guys as well as girls. Then some of my mates ribbed me about it, so I stood up at the prom and told everyone he’d made a pass at me. And they believed it. I hurt him, Bob, hurt him so bad he wanted to kill himself. And I lived in ignorance of that for ten years, until a chance event let me find out.”  
“I’ve taken a long hard look at myself these last few days, and I have to tell you, I’m no hero. Yes, I can swing a bat and pitch a ball, but apart from that, all I have is my brother, and I nearly lost him too. Seeing Cas come back has made me realize. I’ve never loved anyone since, and I doubt I ever will.”  
The presenter coughed.  
“So you’re asking him for another chance?”  
“No, He’d be a fool to give me anything more than the time of day. I just wanted to come on today to clarify things. Lawrence has only one hero worthy of the name, and he is Castiel James Novak.”  
Sam froze the TV. There was a stunned silence from both men.  
“He’s probably ended his career”, Castiel muttered eventually.  
“Not if I and Gabe have anything to do with it!” Sam retorted. “They’ll be up in court if they try to sack him just because he sleeps with guys.”  
“Did you know he was going to do this?”  
“Not until Bobby phoned me on the way back. But I wouldn’t have stopped him, anyway.”  
“But why?”  
Sam hesitated, then decided to go for it.  
“Because he loves you, Cas.”  
“What?”  
“He always has. All those articles about him and his harem, it was all lies. He’s not had a meaningful relationship since you. He broke you, and yes, that’s unforgivable, but in a strange way you broke him too.”  
“You think I should give him another chance, don’t you?”  
“He doesn’t deserve one. And he’ll be too proud to ask. But… if you’re willing, I think I might be able to help…”

Sam was booked to undergo two check-ups at the local hospital in Lawrence, just to make sure everything was cleared up. After the first, Dean drove him back to his flat. They were walking across the car park when, for the third time, Dean caught a glimpse of a familiar tan trench-coat in the coffee-shop window. He hesitated for a moment.  
“Go on, then.”  
Sam was standing there, arms folded.  
“What?”  
“Go talk to him.”  
“He won’t talk to me.”  
“Are you sure?”  
Dean looked hard at his brother. Sam was actually smiling.   
“Shit, you’re not saying….”  
“A second chance, jerk. Even though you don’t deserve it. Start over.”  
He actually had to push his brother the first few steps of the way, before Dean suddenly got the message and sprinted across the road, almost breaking the glass door in his eagerness to get inside. Castiel was sitting at his usual table, smiling slightly as if at some joke. Dean slid in opposite him, and rather belatedly realized he had no idea what to say next.  
“Hi, I’m Dean Winchester”, he said lamely. “Not sure if I’ve still got a job, and I’ve spent the last ten years in denial after I hurt a friend badly.”  
“Castiel Novak. I’ve definitely not got a job, I’m an emotional wreck, and some people seem to get off by making my life unpleasant.”  
“I still love you.”  
“Dean….”  
“But I have no right to your love. Please, Cas. Let me earn it. Candies, flowers, chocolates – you name it, you’ve got it. I’ll do anything to win you back.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes, really.”  
A small Cas-smile crinkled around the edges of those impossibly blue eyes.   
“Okay. I have a meeting with the Board in New York next Monday. I’d like you to be there in support.”  
“Of course. I promise.”  
“We’re flying there.”  
Dean went pale. Castiel grinned.  
“You have a lot of making up to do”, he whispered. “And thanks to Sam, I know every single one of your fears and phobias!”  
Dean was going to kill his brother. Thank him for this, then kill him. Slowly.


End file.
